


Not So Bad

by Alisanne



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-06-18
Updated: 2009-06-18
Packaged: 2018-02-08 14:57:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1945473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alisanne/pseuds/Alisanne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eighth year is shaping up to not be too bad.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not So Bad

**Title:** Not So Bad  
 **Author:** [](http://alisanne.insanejournal.com/profile)[**alisanne**](http://alisanne.insanejournal.com/)  
 **Rating:** PG  
 **Pairing:** Harry Potter/Draco Malfoy  
 **Summary:** Eighth year is shaping up to not be too bad.  
 **Word Count:** 2650  
 **Genre:** Romance  
 **Warnings:** Fluffy fluff.  
 **A/N:** Written for [](http://enchanted-jae.insanejournal.com/profile)[**enchanted_jae**](http://enchanted-jae.insanejournal.com/) 's MDC prompt #40: 'Did someone say party?' and for her birthday, which was yesterday (sorry it's late!).  
 **Beta:** the fabulous [](http://sevfan.insanejournal.com/profile)[**sevfan**](http://sevfan.insanejournal.com/)  
 **Disclaimer:** The characters contained herein are not mine. No money is being made from this fiction, which is presented for entertainment purposes only.

  
~

Not So Bad

~

Harry wasn’t sure how he’d gone from slaying Voldemort to directing eleven-year-olds on the proper way to navigate Hogwarts’ moving stairs, but somehow he had. His feet were aching, his head pounding, and all he wanted was a butterbeer, or even something stronger, although Headmistress McGonagall had made it clear that despite being of age, there would be no alcohol at _her_ school, thank you very much.

“Go on through there,” he instructed the last student, a blonde girl with bouncy curls. From the corner of his eye he saw Hermione point a little boy to where he needed to go.

Once the door to the Gryffindor common room closed, the room went silent. Hermione collapsed onto a sofa. “I can’t believe it’s finally over!” she exclaimed.

“Me either,” Ron said, sitting next to her and slinging an arm over her shoulders. “I think I could sleep for a week. I wasn’t even this tired after Harry killed Voldemort.”

“Ugh, I know.” Harry was already in a chair, his feet propped up on a small table. “I can’t wait to go to bed tonight. Who knew being eighth-year prefects and supervising the arriving first-years would be this tiring?”

“I know!” Hermione exclaimed. “I take back every bad thing I ever said about professors. They have a hard job.”

Ron tilted his head to look at her. “You’ve never said a bad word against a professor in your life.”

She flushed. “Well, I may have _thought_ some.”

Harry laughed. “Stop that,” he said. “I’m too tired to laugh.”

“Yeah, well, you should sleep really well tonight,” Ron said. “No more nightmares, yeah?”

Harry grinned tiredly. “True.” Yawning, he said, “Hey, what do you think McGonagall meant when she said there would be some changes here at Hogwarts?”

“I assumed she meant in the house system,” Hermione replied. “Didn’t you notice that no one was Sorted into Slytherin?”

Harry, whose eyes had drifted shut, snapped open. “Oh my God, you’re right!”

Ron seemed equally gobsmacked. Hermione shook her head. “Thus, since there’s no Slytherin, I’m assuming they’re trying something new this year and plan to distribute all students amongst the three remaining houses.”

“What about the Slytherins from other years?”

Hermione shrugged. “I wondered about that. Did you notice that none of the older Slytherin students were at the welcome feast?”

Harry had noticed, in fact, but he shrugged. He’d hoped to find out what happened to Malfoy later.

“No Slytherins?” Ron smiled. “We should have a party to celebrate.”

“Did someone say party?” a voice drawled from the corner.

Harry, Hermione and Ron all had their wands in hand as Draco Malfoy unfolded himself from a chair and stood up.

“Malfoy?” Harry immediately tucked his wand away. Malfoy looked, well, pale, although something about him was different. For one thing, the habitual sneer was gone, and two, he’d let his hair grow, it was loose but tucked behind his ears.

Spreading his hands to show they were empty, Malfoy said, “God but you people are nervous. You’ve killed the bad guy, you know.”

Harry shook his head. “Next time say something or you might get hexed.”

“How did you do that?” Hermione demanded, hands on her hips. “You were invisible!”

Malfoy shrugged. “A simple Disillusionment Spell,” he murmured. “I’ll show you if you like.”

“We don’t need you to show us anything,” Ron snapped. “Now, what are you doing in our common room?” Ron’s wand hadn’t wavered at all.

“As Granger said, there’s no more Slytherin.” For a moment, Malfoy sounded bitter. “I have been re-Sorted.” He smirked. “Guess where they put me?”

“They put you in Gryffindor?” Ron gaped. “They think _you’re_ courageous? What a crock of--”

“Ron, stop.” Harry stepped forward. “You know,” he said after a long moment. “I can see that. What you did for me at Malfoy Manor during the war was pretty courageous. Thanks, Malfoy.” He held out his hand, and Malfoy, after hesitating for a moment, took it.

It took Hermione forcing Ron’s wand hand down for him to lower it. Malfoy, his smirk widening, sat down. “So, you’re planning a party?”

Harry blinked. “Er...”

“You know, I think that’s a great idea,” Hermione said, dragging Ron down next to her on the sofa. “Very good for house, um, unity.”

Malfoy pursed his lips. “As long as your house isn’t Slytherin,” he muttered.

Hermione looked uncomfortable. “We could talk to McGonagall and see if she would reinstate--”

Malfoy waved his hand. “Don’t bother. I’ve asked, my parents have asked, she won’t budge. Anyway, tell me about this party. I’m very good at planning parties and I think we all could use a distraction.”

“I’ll bet _you_ could,” Ron mumbled. “Ouch!”

Hermione, who had smacked him, smiled. “I think we should have a mixer for all the seventh- and eighth-years,” she said. “Maybe with finger food and pastries and butterbeer--”

Malfoy nodded. “That’s not a bad idea, actually.”

It took them a few minutes to plan the food and activities, and when they all retired, even Ron seemed more relaxed about Malfoy being there. They had all been granted separate rooms, Malfoy’s located across the hall from Harry’s.

“’Night, Potter,” Malfoy mumbled, slipping into his room.

“Yeah.” Harry stared at the door for a moment.

Ron, who’d been hovering, shook his head. “This is going to be interesting.”

Harry smiled. “Yeah.”

“Goodnight, mate.”

“Goodnight.”

Ron looked up and down the hall before trying to open Hermione’s door. A shield sprung to life, and before Ron could react, he was flung away from the door. Rubbing his head ruefully, he sighed, “Worth a try.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Just go to bed,” he said before going to his own room, where, despite his exhaustion, he found it difficult to sleep knowing Malfoy was sleeping so closely.

~

“This is fun,” Hermione said, walking past Harry. “Are you having a good time?”

Harry smiled and nodded, but once she’d passed, he went back to his steady perusal of Malfoy. He had been doing that a lot lately, and he hadn’t even been able to stop when Ron had said something to him about it.

“What’s going on with you and Malfoy?” Ron had asked point blank the third day back. “You’re like hyperaware of him or something.”

Harry had simply shrugged and said he preferred to keep an eye on Malfoy, and while Ron had accepted that, Harry hadn’t missed the occasional look he’d thrown Harry’s way. He couldn’t help it, though. Something was making him watch Malfoy.

The party Malfoy and Hermione had planned looked slated for success; all the sixth-, seventh- and eighth-years were there, and McGonagall had promised they could throw more if this one went well. They had conscripted the Great Hall for the event, wizard rock was playing, and several couples were dancing.

Malfoy was floating about, being urbane and charming, talking to everyone, and Harry hated it.

“You know,” Ron said, walking up to Harry, startling him. “I think there is something off about Malfoy.”

“Oh?”

Ron crossed his arms. “Yeah. He’s been polite, he hasn’t hexed anyone, and he even taught Hermione that Disillusionment Spell. He’s changed.”

Harry nodded, and then it hit him. “Yes, Malfoy has changed,” he muttered. _But so have I._

“Maybe it’s because his parents are on probation?”

“I don’t know.” Harry pursed his lips. “He definitely seems more relaxed, especially since he’s not trying to kill me anymore.”

Ron laughed. “Yeah, I think we can safely say that now.”

“And maybe it’s because the war’s over, but I even--” Harry paused, eyes widening.

“You even what?”

“Nothing.” Harry took a sip of his drink, hoping Ron would forget that he’d been about to blurt something out. Hermione wouldn’t have, but Ron could be moderately oblivious at times. Harry hoped this was one of those times.

“Hey, I think Hermione’s stopped moving for ten seconds. I’m going to see if she’ll dance with me.”

Harry nodded, a bit relieved to be alone so he could ponder the fact that Malfoy was moderately attractive. More than moderately, actually. There were things about Malfoy that Harry quite liked, he realised. Like his laugh, and his arse, and the way he nibbled on his bottom lip when he thought no one was looking. That last always made Harry wonder what would happen if he nibbled Malfoy’s lips for him, which made him wonder why the hell it hadn’t occurred to him that maybe he was gay...

“Would you like to dance, Harry?”

Harry blinked in surprise and, dragging his eyes from Malfoy, looked down at Cho. “Oh, hey, sorry, not right now, Cho. Later maybe?”

“Oh, all right.” Cho smiled at him. “I’ll just be over there.”

Harry glanced over to where she pointed, blushing when he saw a gaggle of girls, all giggling. “Yeah, okay.”

He again checked for Malfoy’s location, eyes widening when he couldn’t find him. Scanning the room, Harry began looking around frantically, unsure how he could have lost him.

“They’re persistent, you know. If you stay here you’ll get no peace.”

Harry jumped. “What?” he asked, spinning to face Malfoy who was lounging against the wall directly behind him. “Who?”

“Girls in general.”

Harry blushed. “Yeah... How long have you been there?”

“About a minute.” Malfoy smirked. “You looked as if you needed rescuing.”

Now recovered, Harry shrugged. “I managed okay.”

“Hm.” Malfoy sounded doubtful. “Honestly, Potter, unless you want to be bothered every few minutes, you need a better hiding place.”

“Like where?”

Malfoy seemed to think for a moment. “Astronomy Tower?” he finally suggested.

Harry inclined his head. “Yeah, all right. I could use some air.”

They didn’t encounter anyone on the way up there and upon arrival, Malfoy’s eyes went immediately to the parapet. “I’ve been trying to revisit certain places so that I can expunge some of my memories.” He sighed. “I spend a lot of time here contemplating what if.”

“I bet.” Harry walked over to the corner from which he’d watched Dumbledore’s death. “That was a horrible night.”

Malfoy chewed his bottom lip. “When you testified at my trial, you said you were here that night.”

Harry nodded. “I was.”

“I didn’t know.”

Harry smiled. “I figured.”

“There’s something I’ve been meaning to say to you,” Malfoy said, taking a deep breath. “I never did say that I’m sorry,” he whispered, looking at a point just above Harry’s left shoulder. “So, for what it’s worth, I’m sorry. And thank you for all you’ve done for me and my family.”

“You saying it is worth a lot, actually.” Harry moved closer. “At least it is to me.”

Despite Harry’s proximity, Malfoy didn’t back away, he met Harry’s eyes. “Can I ask you something?”

Harry nodded.

“Why are you always watching me?”

“I--” Harry paused; it was the perfect opportunity, and he intended to take it. “To be honest, at first it was because I knew you were up to something,” he said, watching Malfoy for reaction. “Then, it was because you were my enemy and on the other side. Lately--”

Malfoy raised an eyebrow as Harry stopped. “Yes? Lately?”

Harry took a deep breath. “Lately I’ve realised that I just...like watching you.”

Malfoy’s mouth fell open. “You like--” He blinked. “Why?”

“Because you’re fascinating, because you’re courageous, because I--” Harry grasped Malfoy’s arm. “I like you.”

“You--” Malfoy grinned. “Yes, well, I _am_ quite likable,” he murmured, clearly teasing.

“Maybe you are,” Harry replied, moving even closer. “I’d love the chance to find out.”

Malfoy pursed his lips. “What are we really doing here, Potter?” he asked, tone serious.

“I hope we’re becoming friends.”

“Friends?” Malfoy’s eyes darted down to Harry’s mouth. “Is that what we’re on the way to becoming?”

“I don’t know.” Harry’s face was scant inches from Malfoy’s. “Maybe. Is that okay with you?”

“I suppose so.” Malfoy smiled faintly. “You’re a very popular man right now. I would be an idiot to refuse to be your friend.”

“Is that the only reason you’d consider it?” Harry asked, tamping down his disappointment. “Because I’m popular?”

Malfoy rolled his eyes. “You’ve always been popular, Potter, and it never swayed me before, why should it now?”

“Okay, so why are you considering friendship with me, then?” Harry challenged.

“Perhaps I like you, too,” Malfoy whispered, shocking Harry. “So many things are changing... I’m no longer a Slytherin, no longer a Death Eater in training, apparently no longer your enemy--”

“Definitely no longer my enemy,” Harry said. “But you’ll always be a Slytherin.”

Malfoy smirked. “Yes, I suspect I will.” He tilted his head. “And careful, that almost sounded like a compliment, Potter,” he said, voice soft.

“It was, actually.” Harry grinned. “Friends do that, you know.”

“So I hear.”

“You must miss your friends.”

“I miss Pansy.” He sighed. “They wouldn’t let her return because of what she did during the Battle of Hogwarts, but she’s my best friend and I miss her.”

“I understand. You know, I was almost in Slytherin myself. The Hat almost placed me there, but I argued with it. Maybe I can be a substitute?”

“You what?” Malfoy shook his head. “Only you would try to argue with that Hat. You can talk anyone into anything, can’t you?”

“Not anything.” Gathering his courage, Harry grabbed Malfoy’s hand. “I’m not sure I could persuade you to do anything you didn’t want.”

Malfoy’s fingers tightened on his. “True,” he replied.

“So is it only me that wants this?” Harry asked.

Malfoy didn’t pretend not to understand. “It depends on what _this_ is,” he said. “But...no, I wouldn’t say you’re the only one.” The last was faint; Harry had to lean in to hear it.

“Thank God.” Pressing forward, Harry slanted his lips over Malfoy’s, moaning when Malfoy responded with enthusiasm. Somehow, Harry could never have said how, they ended up against the wall, Malfoy’s tongue stroking his with vigour and no little skill. Harry’s thigh was bracketed by Malfoy’s, and when he felt the tangible proof of Malfoy’s interest in him pressing against his leg, he thrust instinctively, something low in his centre fluttering as Malfoy arched against him. All through the kiss their hands clung, and somehow, that seemed to heighten all of Harry’s responses.

Malfoy’s free hand was fisting Harry’s robes, and as Harry dragged his lips away from Malfoy’s, he was gratified to her a disappointed noise escape Malfoy’s throat.

“Wow,” Harry gasped, his forehead hitting Malfoy’s shoulder.

Malfoy chuckled. “Bloody hell,” he whispered. “Imagine the possibilities if you _had_ been Sorted into Slytherin.” His lips brushed Harry’s ear as spoke. “God...we could’ve been snogging for years.”

“I’m not sure I would have been able to focus on getting rid of Voldemort if you’d been there to tempt me,” Harry admitted to the curve of Malfoy’s neck.

Malfoy sighed. “That’s probably true. It may have worked out better this way.”

Harry drew back to look at him. “I have to admit, I’m okay with how it’s worked out.”

“The year is looking up.” Malfoy sighed. “Still, I miss green. Everything is just so red now.”

Harry laughed. “You’re a Gryffindor now,” he reminded him. “There are worse things then red. Plus, you look good in it.”

Malfoy blinked, apparently pondering this. “You know, I look good in almost everything,” he said, licking his lips and grinning at Harry’s reaction. Reaching out, he tucked a stray lock of hair behind Harry’s ear. “Perhaps you’re right. Maybe this year won’t be so bad after all.”

Grinning, Harry leaned in for another kiss, whispering, “Oh, I know it won’t.”

~


End file.
